The first draft of my next book, a sequel to Redemption Point, is finished. It has now enter the editing phase.   The murders begin on a cool fall night. Rookie Sheriff, Zack Taylor, has no motive or suspects. The FBI arrives to assist, and another body surfaces. Feeling overwhelmed and wondering what he’s gotten himself into, Zack follows a lead that could bring back ghosts from his past. When a child disappears, the trail leads to a suspect seeking retribution from behind bars. Can Zack find the child and capture the killer before someone else dies?

 

He looked out through the bug-stained windshield at the plump moon floating above the blacktop road that seemed to unravel before them. He could see every detail of its grey continents and dry oceans. The moon’s ominous light turned grass that should have been green, and a sign that he knew was yellow, to shades of gray. The scene ahead of them looked like an old black-and-white movie. A dark cloud drifted across the sky and slowly obscured the moon’s glow. Out beyond the headlight beams, the grays turned to black, ending the visible world at the edge of their reach.

In this low light Lee imagined that even blood would appear black. Soon, they would know.

He saw their destination up ahead and pulled the truck as far off the road as possible, up close to the trunks of the low hanging trees lining the gravel road shoulder that crunched beneath their tires. He cut the ignition and the engine noise died; he pressed the headlight switch, killing them. The canopies of the trees wrapped the truck in a darkness, which combined with the lack of sound, made him feel like the truck had entered some lifeless vacuum. Finally, the feel of the cool breeze against his elbow sticking out of his open window began to bring the world back. Then, as if slowly turning up the volume, the noises of the night gradually filled the emptiness.  

Are we really going to do this? Lee’s hand shook as he reached up and unsnapped the plastic cover of the dome light and removed the bulb. He took a deep breath into his seemingly tight chest, held it for several seconds, and slowly exhaled. “Are you ready?” he asked his partner.

“Yea, I’m freakin’ ready. Let’s do it, man. Let’s blow these sons of bitches away!”

Even though the night air was cool, Lee felt a trickle of warm sweat run down the back of his neck. Donnie was no mental giant and right now he was obviously pumped up with adrenaline. Lee could not tolerate mistakes, not tonight.   “Follow my lead and we’ll get in and out. We stick to the plan. Okay?”

Lee felt humiliated that this—this moron’s actions could determine his future. There is no way I’m going back to jail if Donnie screws this up. But he realized that he had no choice but to do this job and he needed help. Without the money it would pay, he couldn’t get his life … or his daughter … back.

“Yea, man. Don’t worry. I’m cool.”

Lee reached down and grabbed the wooden stock of his 12 gauge pump shotgun. As he opened the door, he smelled sweet gun oil. Donnie got out on the passenger side holding a double-barreled shotgun in his hands. When he closed the door a little too loudly Lee shushed him and whispered “Quiet!”

Their eyes were beginning to adjust to the low light; objects appeared like ghosts around them, slowly coming into focus.

They moved through the dew soaked grass covered with the first layer of fallen leaves that felt like damp shag carpeting beneath their feet. Keeping to the shadows, they worked their way along the boundary of the plowed fields and trees, parallel to the house, where their prey waited. The old-style white farmhouse sat back a hundred yards or so from the road. A long straight gravel driveway ran through an open front yard to the main entrance. A long covered porch fronted the building and wrapped around the far side. The house stood in the center of at least thirty acres of mostly open farm land. The middle few acres held the house surrounded by a grassy yard with several large oak trees out front, one in the back, and a barn off to the left rear. Thick woods lined the circumference of the fields. Across the road more plowed acreage held recently planted fall crops of pumpkins or Indian corn.

Lee and Donnie paused along the edge of the woods as they came abreast of the house. They would have to leave the protection of the trees and cross an open seventy-five yards or more to reach the house. 

Lee surveyed the area. All was quiet except for the damn crickets, and the soft whining of a jetliner soaring a mile high overhead. As he looked up at a faint flashing light moving slowly across the sky, Lee wondered what those passengers up there were doing. Were they watching some new sequel to Chevy Chase’s Vacation movie? Were they sipping their five dollar beers and discussing the latest trends on Wall Street? He wished he could fly off to Los Angeles or Seattle or Tokyo, anywhere but here. But no, he wasn’t that lucky. He pushed the thoughts away and regained his focus.

No cars moved along the road. The interior lights went out an hour ago as they drove past the third time. They had been watching the house for a week, and thankfully, the family followed pretty much the same evening routine. At 10:00 they turned off the lights and went to bed. Lee hoped everyone was asleep by now. The nearest other home was a half mile west so he didn’t expect any interruptions while doing the job.

“Well?” asked Donnie. “Are we going to do this freakin’ thing?”